A Dawning Light
by Marishu Tajamoto
Summary: After Rusty leaves, Smudge has doubts. Should he leave too? Deciding to go and live with Rusty, Smudge wanders into ShadowClan territory. Smudge joins ShadowClan as an apprentice. In a battle two friends must fight, and one will be gone forever...
1. A Hard Decision

Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors, and I rather think it is the best for them, or else I would be killing them off like… well, I don't know. R&R!

A Hard Decision 

Smudge watched Rusty go with a heavy heart. He was losing his best friend! But something at the back of his head was still nagging him. _What if Rusty _was_ right? What if the best thing really is to leave?_ Smudge shook his head firmly and thought, _No. Those cats are mean, wild, and dangerous. I'm sure I'll never see Rusty again. He'll be killed!_ Tears leaked out of Smudges eyes. He wiped them somberly away with the back of his paw. Then he turned around and half leapt, half fell off the fence and into his garden.

As he paced slowly through the huge leafy plants, Smudge thought of all the long hours he and Rusty had spent together, all the long, sunny mornings they spent grooming each other and talking about their Housefolk… Just thinking about these memories made Smudge feel miserable. He sat down and closed his eyes. For a split second, Smudge imagined that he would feel Rusty's warm breath on his fur, but he didn't. Instead, he felt the cool morning breeze rippling his soft kitten fur. Smudge curled into a ball, pondering what he should do next.

The sky overhead darkened. Now that sunhigh was long gone, the wispy clouds that were hiding at the edge of the sky now easily hid the sun. Once the main source of heat had gone, the bitter winds came, howling and snarling like a pack of dogs. Then came the rain. Smudge wasn't a real water cat, so as soon as the first drop fell and clung to his fur like a burr, Smudge was instantly under the cover of a tall bush with umbrella like leaves.

The rain was coming down so fast; in the short time of four seconds that it took to run for cover, Smudge was already soaked. He bent down and started to groom his fur. The wind carried some of the droplets under the leaf, soaking Smudge yet again. He sighed and got up. Deciding that his house would be much drier than out here, Smudge gathered his courage and made a dash for his front steps. The rain pelted down at him, feeling like thousands of tiny bullets being bombed at him from enemies above the dark, swirling clouds that they lived in. He finally made it in after what seemed like years and pushed through the plastic cat-flap that led into the kitchen. Thunder clapped as a fork of lightning lit up the sky for a second before disappearing. Smudge shivered not only from cold, but also from fear. He hated the loud noise the thunder made.

He circled his nest once, twice, three times before settling down and finishing the washing he had started. Even though he was tired, washing always made him feel better.

Soon his Housefolk walked clumsily down the stairs and into the kitchen. It poured dry round pellets into a blue bowl and left the room. Smudge could hear it shuffling around in the next room. He pulled himself out of his cozy bed and over to the bowl. The pellets were hard and flavorless like dirt (A.N. not you-know-what dirt. Dirt meaning soil.), but he managed to choke down a few mouthfuls before returning to his bed. This was not the perfect day with Rusty he had planned. No, ever since Rusty had met with those wildcats last night, nothing had been right. Smudge let out a tiny whimper but quickly stifled it. He was such a ninny! He could have slapped himself across the face with unsheathed claws! Smudge let the fur along his spine flatten, for it had risen in disgust just a few seconds ago.

His Housefolk lumbered back into the kitchen. It stooped to scratch him behind the ears at a spot that had been bugging him the whole day. He purred and licked its big, peach-colored paw. This he immediately knew was a mistake, for its paw was covered with slime and sweat. The taste made Smudge's throat burn like hot coals singeing his delicate windpipe. He coughed and sputtered, but the Housefolk didn't seem to notice. It merely stood up and walked away, climbing the stairs with what seemed like total blindness because it made loud thuds and slapping sounds. Smudge fell into an uneasy sleep to the sounds of floorboards creaking and young Housefolk's crying for its mother.

Smudge lapped at a cool puddle of rainwater that had been caught in the glossy leafs of a stout plant from last night's rainfall. His pink tongue traveled all the way around his mouth, removing all access water possible. For the thousandth in the past six days, Smudge looked longingly over the fence in the direction of the forest beyond. Something stirred inside him. Some urge to jump that fence and join Rusty. A voice in the back of his head whispered, _why, though? Do you think Rusty was noble to run away? Is it brave to run away? Why do you what it so badly? Surely you would be leaving everything behind…_ But then Smudge thought of Henry; slow, lazy, indifferent. Would he, in time, be just like Henry? (A.N. For all you out there who have forgotten or need refreshing on their memory of the first book, Henry was that lazy old cat (Hey! That rimes!) who told Smudge about the "wildcats") If the vet did that normally, Smudge couldn't even think about what they must do in emergencies. Probably take out their eyes or rip off their ears. He shuddered and pushed those images to the back of his head.

Smudge crouched, tail swishing back and forth, before he leapt high into the air, soaring towards the white, wooden fence. He had misjudged his jump and found himself sinking before planned. When his forelegs hit the top of the fence at their fullest extent, out came the claws to grip the wood; up came his hind legs to scramble on top of the fence. After scratching and scraping at the wood, he finally managed to heave himself up. He was blushing furiously, a little embarrassed by his stupidity. In his effort, the green collar around his neck had slipped off. _Not the most efficient thing ever, huh? _He asked himself.

His ears pricked and he spun around to look into the forest. He was sure something had called his name. _It was just the wind,_ he thought, mind whirling, _just the wind._ But still he felt as if he were being pulled on a string into the depths of the forest itself. He stood there, leaning over the edge of the fence. A battle was going on in his head. _Should he go, or shouldn't he go?_ In a split second he decided. Actually, _he_ didn't decide. His body automatically made up its mind when his Housefolk shook the food container to call him inside. Instead of bounding of the fence in their direction, he leapt lightly of the fence in the other direction, towards the forest.

Once on the forest floor, however, a new problem sprung up. His stomach was reminding him of it: food. He didn't know how he was going to get his own food. His Housefolk always gave him plenty. Even though it didn't taste too good, it was something. Smudge's stomach growled louder this time. He decided it was better for him to be moving around. He didn't want to find anything that wanted to hurt him. So he set off into the shadows of the tall, rough feeling barked tree. Its leaves rustled as a light breeze whispered through the foliage.

After some long period of time, Smudge sat down to rest. He was positively exhausted. He had been traveling due east through dense forest. Twice he thought he heard a snap of a twig or a rustle of a paw being dragged though leaves. Each time, Smudge had looked over his shoulder but seen nothing. It spooked him to know, _or think_, he reminded himself, that something was following him. He shook his head, got up, and wandered over to a stream that was trickling over a few pebbles. Smudge bent down and thankfully lapped at the cool water. It soothed this parched throat after the long trek through the trees. He only allowed himself a few licks before setting off once more.

Not after long, Smudge found himself at the edge of the forest. A horrid stench filled his nostrils. Smudge peeked out from behind a tree. Ahead lay a wide smooth surface. It shone in the afternoon suns glare. Smudge trotted out from behind his ash tree. _It doesn't look too bad… if you didn't count the smell,_ he thought. At that moment, the ground shook. A terrible roaring sound filled the air. Smudge looked wildly around and to his horror saw a giant monster coming towards him, growing closer and closer every second. Smudge leapt for the safety of the trees. He half made it. The monster rushed by just as he was in mid leap. The force in which it was rushing by threw him into the air. He twisted in mid air and landed on his feet. Even though he landed well beyond the trees, he scrambled to cower behind a large birch twenty or so feet away from the wide, revolting black… THING!

After about an hour of listening to the monsters roaring by, Smudge decided that they meant no real harm unless he stepped out onto the thundering path. _Hey!_ He thought._ Thunderpath isn't a bad name for that thing!_ He crept stealthily, paw-by-paw, out from behind his tree. One monster roared by, then another. He now barely flinched as one whizzed by, hissing and spitting. Smudge walked further down the oily grass that separated him from the Thunderpath, scanning the scenery for someway to cross unscathed. Then he spotted it. A tunnel.

It seemed to lead to the other side. Smudge took a few tentative steps towards it. He wasn't sure if he should do it or not. _Do it! DO IT!_ Then he decided; if he wanted to get to Rusty, he must cross here. Taking a deep breath and gathering up his courage, Smudge pelted full out under the tunnel. He didn't stop to take a breath or look back until he was on the other side.

"Phew! I thought I would never get across!" murmured Smudge. "That was some smart thinking… for a kittypet." A voice growled near his right shoulder. Smudge stiffened. "Now," continued the voice in icy calmness, "My instructions are simple; turn around and leave ShadowClan territory at once."


	2. An Attack From Behind

Disclaimer: I own the Warriors books. But I don't own the Warrior _stuff._ If this doesn't make sense, review me. Better yet, review my story. No, wait… I don't know. You decide. Wow, how long is this disclaimer going to be?! You know, I could go on foreeeeeeeeever! 'Cause no one reads these! Yay! I mean boo! I mean… I don't know! You're confusing me! Help!  I'm weird. DON'T REPLY TO THAT!! I'm warning you… Sorry 'bout that. I'm crazy. DON'T REPLY TO THAT EITHER!! Oh, yeah, thanks Spiritwind of FireClan for reviewing. You know, you really should read her stories. They're grrrrrrrrrrrrrreat! BTW, I took that from the Frosted Flakes commercial.

**A New Start and One Very Sad Ending**

Smudge stiffened. The voice spoke again, this time not as patient, " Would you rather I make you into fresh-kill?" Smudge didn't move, but was dieing from not being able to ask what in the world was fresh-kill, and what he was doing wrong.

"So, if you were to pick in between life and death, what would it be?" Smudge thought he knew but he was too afraid to say it out loud. "So?!" shouted the voice, completely losing its temper. "Face me and let's fight." Smudge revolved slowly on the spot and found himself face to face with a lean tabby cat. Smudge could see its ribs showing through its fur, which was matted and splattered with mud. The cat's face was thin, cheekbones jutting out under the skin.

The grey tabby tom hissed and leapt at Smudge. His instincts screamed in his ear, " Duck! Duck!" Smudge ducked just in time. The tabby missed his target and landed on the soft marshy ground a few feet away with a yowl of surprise and anger. He leapt to his feet and rammed into Smudge with the force of a bomb. Smudge was lifted off his feet and slammed into the ground, all of the breath driven out of his lungs.

Seeing his chance, the young tom tackled the other cat, landing on his back. Having an idea, Smudge forced his tiered limbs to go limp in the sign of submission. The tabby let out a yowl of triumph. " You thought you could beet me," hissed the tom in his face. " You made the wrong decision wandering into ShadowClan's territory. Now you'll pay." He lifted his head, preparing to deliver the fatal blow. _Not yet,_ Smudge thought. _Not until you feel his teeth._ The grey tom's head plunged. At the exactly the right moment, Smudge surged upward, knocking the tom clean off his back. The tom flew through the air and landed on his side with a yowl of pain and confusion.

Mimicking the tom, Smudge leapt for his flank. The tabby dodged. The tabby swiped for him with his right paw. Smudge lunged for the left and safety.

Suddenly, the tom sat up, licked his forepaw, and drew it slowly over his ear. Confused, Smudge sat down uneasily. All trace of the recent battle, all feelings of hatred and violence, was gone from the tom.

" Umm," Smudge said timidly, not quite sure how the tom would react. The tabby stopped grooming and said in a calm and friendly voice, " Hi, I'm Wetpaw. What's your name?" Smudge shuffled his paws and looked up. " My name is Smudge," he replied. " 'Smudge!'" scoffed Wetpaw. " What kind of name is that?" Smudge peered curiously at the tom. " What kind of name is 'Wetpaw'?"

Wetpaw shrugged. " My mother named me." Smudge was startled. " My mother didn't name me. My Housefolk did." Wetpaw started. Then a look of disappointment dawned his face. " Oh, right. I forgot you were a kittypet." Smudge wondered why he looked so sad.

The tom lifted his head and sniffed. " Patrol," hissed Wetpaw. Smudge sniffed the air too, but all he could smell was the rich smell of wet peat. He sniffed again and looked around. Shadows were falling on the ground. Smudge looked at them. None seemed to look like a cat. He didn't hear anything either. This made him worried. If the cats could mask their sent and be that quiet, what other things could they do?

The ferns on the other side of the marshy ground rustled. Five cats, all of which were skinny and battle-scarred, padded slowly over, forming a wide circle enclosing Wetpaw and himself.

A longhaired dark brown tabby tom stepped forward. Power and authority radiated off him. Smudge instantly felt respect for this cat.

" What are you doing with a _kittypet, _Wetpaw? You should have killed him or chased him out." Wetpaw crouched down and narrowed his eyes in a sign of respect and submission. He flattened himself even closer to the ground when a second cat stepped forward. This time it was a she-cat. She had long legs and light brown fur. " What were you doing here Wetpaw? Boulder was looking all over for you," growled the full-grown cat, narrowing her bright green eyes that were reduced to slits. Wetpaw lowered his head in shame. " I'm sorry, Tallpoppy," he meowed. " I'll be sure to tell a warrior next time." Tallpoppy scowled. " You should have told a warrior this time. I'm disappointed with you."

The first cat looked at Smudge. " Who is this?" the tom inquired. Smudge flicked his ears uncomfortably. " This is Smudge," mewled Wetpaw. " We were fighting before you-" The tabby interrupted him. " We saw," he growled. Wetpaw lowered his eyes to the ground. " I'm sorry," he mumbled. The tabby's nostrils flared. " Sorry won't be good enough," he hissed.

Smudge wasn't sure what the tom was going to do with them. But suddenly, a change came into the wiser cat's eyes. Instead of that fiery gleam of battle, the amber eyes were filled with thoughtfulness and curiosity.

Another cat padded quickly over to the first one. The second tom hissed urgently in the first's ear, " A ThunderClan patrol is coming. It smells like four cats; two warriors and two apprentices."

" Follow me," he growled at both of them. He flicked his ears, and the other cats formed a loose ring around them. They stared ahead with blank and tired eyes. _What has happened to these cats to make them look that way?_ Smudge wondered.

One of the cats looked up at him as if he knew that Smudge was staring. Smudge looked down quickly at his paws. They trekked through marshland and swamps. Smudge had difficulty keeping up even though they weren't going the slightest bit fast. The mud soaked his belly fur and squished in a disgusting way that made him shudder. Some cats sniggered.

As they traveled deeper and deeper into unknown territory, Smudge felt them traveling farther and farther away from home, safety, and dinner.

The sun was now sinking below the horizon. From up ahead, faint sounds were heard. The weary cats quickened their pace, and it was all Smudge could do to keep up with them. Even his "friend", if you wanted to call Wetpaw that, was racing towards what looked like a giant cocoon of brambles.

The cats slowed down a bit and made a single file line. Smudge was jostled in front of a lean brown cat he recognized as Tallpoppy. Someone jabbed him hard in the back, and he was pushed through a small tunnel, thorns catching at this fur. They gave him a mighty push, and Smudge tumbled head first onto the hard packed earth inside of the cocoon. There was a hush. In the shadows, he could see cats lying down or standing in groups. Their eyes were narrowed in anger. Claws flashed.

Out stepped a large white cat. His claws were unsheathed and he crouched low to the ground. In split second, Smudge realized that the tom was going to do. The tom hissed and let out a yowl of rage, and leapt for Smudge.

Don't worry, neither of them die. Sorry for taking so long to update. Hope you like it! - Cloverleaf


	3. Shuntted

He he… Thanks all of you cats out there that reminded me that it has been a year and I haven't updated yet. (Sorry, must have lost track of time…) I hope you like this chapter, and… Whoops!! Hold on a second.

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Warriors, um… Trademark? Whatever, you get the point.**

There, how's that? Now, is there anything else I have to say… Well, if there is, review this and I will fix that for you. Okay, this is high stakes. Whoever reviews this chapter first will get a preview for any story they want. Just say so in the review. I know that this will be a little late (okay, a lot a bit late) by the time I get this chapter out, but _Hag Sameach_ to all you Jewish kits/cats out there. And, um… Happy Easter? Okay, happy Easter! (Is that proper grammar?) - Cloverleaf

Shunted 

Smudge was bowled over as the black pawed cat landed on him. His muscles rippled powerfully under his skin. Smudge rolled onto his back and too late realized that he had exposed his soft belly fur.

The entire world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the next move. To one side, Wetpaw stood with his mouth slack. The cat that seemed to be in charge was watching them with narrowed eyes, but did not do anything to prevent the fight.

The white cat took no chances and leapt right at Smudge's lighter under belly. Smudge rolled out of the way, but a little to late. The other cat's claws raked down his side. Smudge looked down and saw that the dusty ground was slashed with crimson blood.

Anger burned inside of Smudge like a roaring fire. He hurled himself at his attacker. That other cat was caught by surprise and didn't have time to defend himself. Smudge scratched and bit at every part of the white cat his could reach. The black pawed cat yowled with frustration. Smudge pinned the bigger cat down, only to be thrown into the air by powerful paws.

His collar was choking him. Smudge staggered, trying to stand up. He felt light headed and giddy from lack of air circulation. He felt himself slipping out of conscience.

A streak of white was drawing nearer. The cat leapt on top of Smudge. The cat gave him a blow on the neck, but caught Smudge's dirty green collar instead. The suffocating grip of the collar was lifted. Smudge could breath again.

He started struggling with the white tom, hoping agents hope that the collar would wear out. There was a loud _SNAP!_ and Smudge was sent tumbling backwards. He leapt to his paws and pinned the stunned cat down, a paw at the tom's throat. He had won.


End file.
